Dark Before Dawn
by kendra151
Summary: A botched job creates bigger problems for the team, potentially putting one Expendable in harm's way.
1. Chapter 1

**So this is my first attempt at an Expendables fic. This is very different from what I've written in the past, so I'm curious to see how it will turn out. It's set sometime after the first movie but I haven't decided yet if or how the second movie will play into it. Hope you enjoy!**

**Chapter 1**

"Are you sure this is the place?," Lee Christmas asked, lowering the field glasses from his eyes, as he addressed the man beside him.

"Yep. Right place." Barney Ross answered, continuing his own observation without pause, even as the first man rambled on.

"Why the hell would Church send us all the way out here? This place looks fucking deserted. You're certain you didn't write the directions wrong?"

"I'm positive." Barney dropped his own set of binoculars and finally met his stare. "Just be patient. I'm sure we'll see something. Eventually."

"Be patient." Lee repeated, shaking his head. "Last time I heard that was six years ago when I asked you to repay the money you borrowed from me. And I still haven't seen a dime of that yet."

Lee walked away, muttering in irritation as he headed for the line of trees behind them.

"Where are you going?" Barney asked, his tone indifferent as he turned his attention back to the building below.

"To dig my own grave. Looks like we're going to be here a while. When I finally die of boredom, I can fall right in."

Barney smirked as he surveyed the land before him, his partner's familiar ribbing already forgotten as he returned his focus to his work. The frustration was to be expected. The contrasting terrain of the Algerian landscape spread out before them offered little relief from the monotony of their task. Hidden away in the mountainous hillside flanking the barren plain below, they'd spent the past two days inspecting their current surroundings, searching for any signs of life coming from the strange, solitary structure located in the middle of the grassland below them.

This was the hardest part. The watching. The waiting. They all hated it. But he seemed to be able to tolerate it more than the others, with the possible exception of his smallest man,Yin Yang. What Yang lacked in size, he made up for in speed, and perhaps it was because of this exhaustive attribute that he always welcomed the more placid task of keeping vigilance on a potential target whenever the need arose. Unfortunately, sending Yang in alone had not been an option on this occasion. Mr. Church, their employer for this particular assignment, had made it very clear that expedience was of the utmost importance. There had been no time for a pre-mission exploration. Out of necessity, the entire team had been required to make the first trip together. Great for their combined protection. Not so good for their nerves.

It was an almost inconceivable idiosyncrasy. After all the years they'd worked together, after all the jobs they'd completed, the calmest part of their profession was the one component they couldn't seem to get used to. But, when all was said and done, they were men of action, focused on getting the task done as quickly and efficiently as possible. Delays put them on edge, made them impatient. Not an ideal situation at a time when the utmost concentration was required.

Even as he mentally acknowledged his teammates' flaws, his own mind betrayed him by wandering, his thoughts carried back to a time when things had not been quite so dark. Just how many jobs had he completed since that time? He'd lost count long ago, the names and the faces blurring together in one chaotic mass. Was it unforgivable that he did not even know the identities of all those he had killed? Possibly. But he comforted himself with the fact that most of them were not worthy of being remembered.

It had been a lifetime ago since the unseen hands of fate had embarked on their mission to mold him into the man now standing in the middle of this God-forsaken countryside. That cruel grasp that had torn him apart and stitched him back together again a thousand times, each time leaving in its place only an imperfect facsimile of the person he had been before. The coldness of it had burrowed it's way through his tough exterior to lay refuge deep inside his heart, it's numbing essence greedily winding its way through every vein and artery, until there was no room left for anything else. His existence rooted in memories carved from the ruins of barbaric wars, long forgotten by all but those who had been forced to endure them. Battles with the greedy, the worthless, the evil. The loss of love. The disregard for life. Death a constant companion. All the forces of the universe had conspired together to form his destiny. To give birth to the man he had become. And who he would forever be. How could he be anything else? The idea of redemption was beyond his conviction. How could he ever expect to be forgiven for the things he had done?

It was a hard life. One that he would not wish on any other. But it was what he knew. At times, he was ashamed to admit just how comfortable he had become with it all.

But even after all the years he'd spent fighting and shooting, stabbing and killing, he still never failed to feel that small tingle of anticipation with the prospect of each new operative. That little sliver of excitement, the pleasant tension that flowed through every muscle and fiber of his being, bringing his body and mind together into perfect focus. He supposed some might label it as a survival instinct. He preferred to think of it as preparation for a job well done.

But as he studied the building situated below him, the feeling that twisted in his gut and pricked at the back of his mind was one that was not so familiar. The unease that had tormented him ceaselessly since his initial meeting with Church had only grown stronger since their arrival, and he wondered, not for the first time, if he had made the wrong decision by accepting this job.

He glanced to his right, his eyes scanning the cover for signs of his other men, satisfied when he saw none. They were all well-concealed, as they should be, but all focused on the task at hand, searching for any signs of life from inside the structure. Or, at least, he hoped they were. As if on cue, a burst of static issued from his headset, another voice resounding in his right ear.

"What the hell is this shit?" Toll Road growled, from somewhere off in the distance. "What are we looking for? Zombies? Hell, they'd be more alive than anything we've seen so far!"

"Come on guys. You know the drill. We can't just go storming into the place until we know exactly what we're up against." Barney answered, glancing over his shoulder as Lee returned to his spot next to him. "You guys haven't seen anything at all?"

"If you mean besides Caesar making out with his big guns over here, then no. I haven't seen a damn thing!"

"Gunnar? What about you? Have you and Yang seen anything?" Barney repeated, as Lee scoffed in amusement.

"Nope. Nothing here." the big Swede answered. "Of course, Yang's so short he can't see much of anything unless he's sitting on my shoulders..."

A muffled grunt ended the conversation and for a split second Barney felt a splinter of concern at the sound, until he realized Yang had probably silenced the bigger man's insults.

"You guys just keep a low profile. Don't get too exposed back there." Barney instructed, his realization confirmed when Gunnar responded with a quick "Got it."

"I can't believe you put those two together after everything that's happened between them." Lee stated, meeting the other man's glare. "I don't get it. Do you want them to kill each other?"

Barney shrugged, raising his binoculars again. "They've been working out their differences. They'll be fine. Eventually. Just be..."

"Patient. Yeah, I know."

Silence settled over them again, as both men resumed the observation of their surroundings, their curiosity peaked by the lack of activity at their most recent target site. For Barney, it was just one more notch in the belt of disquiet that kept tightening around his mind. Church had been very stingy with the amount of information he had provided for this particular job. For any other client, similar circumstances would have been an immediate deal breaker. But Church had assured him that he would have all of the relevant information necessary to complete the assignment and any other details surrounding the matter would be released only on a need-to-know basis. Considering the fact that they'd done business before, Barney had eventually, although reluctantly, agreed to take on the mission. But now, as before, he found himself second guessing his decision. He couldn't remember how long it had been since he'd felt such concern. Not only for his safety, but for that of his men as well.

"What is this place anyway?" Christmas asked, pulling him from his thoughts. "Doesn't it seem out of place to you? It's like somebody just dropped it out of the sky and it randomly landed here."

He shook his head. "I'm not sure. I think maybe it's some type of storage facility. Or at least, it used to be. Doesn't look like it's used much anymore. At least not from what we've seen."

Barney mulled the question over, unsatisfied with the answer he'd given. Again, he felt that tingle at the base of his neck, as though someone was already tightening the noose around it. There were too many unanswered questions. Too many loose ends that could come back and bite them in the ass if this assignment did not go as planned. For the first time since he could remember, they were facing a virtually unnamed foe. He did not know who they were. Or how many of them existed. Or why they were an apparent threat. And more disturbing, he did not know what he should expect to find once they got inside.

Except for her.

Church had assured him that she would be there.

But gazing at it now, he had to question the credibility of Church's sources. If there was anybody inside of this strange and foreign place, then they worked, slept and lived there. During the entire time of their surveillance, they had yet to see a single person enter or leave the building. There were no vehicles visible. No sign that they should expect anybody to appear. Yet, they continued to wait, Barney searching for something, anything, that might give some confirmation to the reason they were there.

"Alright guys. Take a break." he finally stated, talking into his mouthpiece again. "Come on in and lets reassess the situation."

Two mumbles of accession quickly followed and he glanced at Lee, using his head to motion in the direction of their agreed upon meeting spot. Wordlessly, they moved together toward the location, arriving only moments before Toll Road & Hale Caesar, shortly followed by Gunnar Jensen and Yang.

"Still nothing?" Barney asked the two groups again, although he could tell by the look of frustration on their faces what the answer would be.

"Nothing."

"Not a thing."

"Maybe somebody should take a closer look." Yang finally suggested, glancing at the others to see if they would approve.

"Are you volunteering?" Barney asked, only half jokingly.

Yang shrugged. "If I have to. Beats sitting around here doing nothing."

"And he is the smallest one." chimed in Gunnar, as he pulled a sip of whiskey from the silver flask he kept hidden away in his pocket. "He'll be the hardest for them to see."

Yang turned to glare at him and Gunnar smartly took a step backwards out of kicking distance.

Contemplating the suggestion, Barney glanced in the direction of the building and shook his head.

"Could be risky. We don't know what kind of surveillance equipment they might have, if any. If anybody _is_ inside, they could very well be the kind to shoot first and ask questions later."

"It's worth a shot. Hell, I'll do it myself if it'll get us out of here any faster." Toll Road chimed in, kicking a chunk of rock across the ground in frustration.

"Like you'd be any help." Caesar snorted, as he polished a dull spot on the side of the gun strapped across his massive chest. "With that deformed ear of yours, somebody could sneak up behind you and shoot you in the back and you'd never hear them coming."

"We've been through this before. My hearing is fine." Toll argued, earning more than one eye roll from the group members. "But if it keeps me from having to watch you make out with that gun of yours one more time, I'll take the chance."

"Alright guys, that's enough. Let's just focus on what we've got to do." Barney ordered as he mentally reviewed the slim list of options they had left.

"C'mon man. We gotta do something soon. This waiting is killing us all." Christmas encouraged, earning a nod from the rest of his teammates.

Searching each of their faces for any sign of doubt, and seeing none, Barney threw up his hands.

"Ok. We'll do it." he agreed. "But I'm the one who got us into this, so I'm the one going in."

Without waiting for an objection, he stalked away, heading back toward the overlook where he'd spent most of the past two days.

XXXXXXXX

"There is a set of solid steel doors at either end of the building, each flanked by a couple of windows." Barney explained, as he sketched a rough outline of the structure. No windows or doors on the side facing us. We'll assume for now that the other side is the same."

"Apparently they don't like the sunlight. Maybe it's full of vampires." Caesar quipped. "Hope you brought your silver bullets."

"Silver bullets are for werewolves!" Toll corrected. "You need wooden stakes and garlic for vampires. Or some stupid shit like that!"

Barney ignored them both and continued on.

"We can use that to our advantage. If something happens, I'll work my way back to the side. That way, they'll have to exit the building if they want to come after me. You guys keep watch from up here. If there's any trouble, you know what to do."

He paused for a moment, then pulled a folded up slip of paper from his back pocket. Unfolding it, he tossed it on the makeshift table in front of him.

"Take a good, long look at this picture. Commit it to memory." he demanded, pointing to the face of the brunette woman smiling back at him. "She is the reason we are here. Remember, we don't know who she is or who's side she's on, for that matter. But Church demanded that she be taken alive and brought back to him. Pick your targets carefully. If any of you slip up and kill her, you can be guaranteed that he will make sure none of us ever sees the light of day again."

"What if she's armed? What the hell are we supposed to do if she starts shooting at us?" Caesar demanded, his brows drawn together in a frown.

Barney shrugged. "Hope she's a poor shot."

Gunnar picked the paper up and studied it for a minute, then tossed it back down with a click of his tongue.

"She doesn't look like much of a threat to me." he suggested, rolling his shoulders to help loosen the tension in his neck. "What does Church want with her?"

"Don't know. He was pretty vague about the matter." Barney answered, once again reminded of just how little he knew about this situation.

"So you're just going to hand her over? Just like that? No questions asked?" Toll Road asked, with an unusual display of concern.

"What? Don't tell me you're growing a conscience all of a sudden now?" Barney replied. "You getting soft on us?"

Toll shook his head. "I'm just saying, this whole thing just seems a little crazy to me. I'd at least like to have an idea what we're getting ourselves into."

"It's no different than anything we've done before." Barney argued, pushing his own doubts to the side. "We find the target, we do the job, we get paid. And we don't ask what happens afterward. That's not our problem."

He studied the other men and was rewarded with a couple nods of agreement, although he had to admit they seemed somewhat forced.

"All I know is that she has information that he needs. And he's determined to get it from her, no matter the cost." Barney added, hoping to satisfy everyone's curiosity long enough to get the job done.

"Well, that's too bad for him." Christmas added sarcastically, drawing all of their attention towards him. He was standing behind Barney, field glasses to his eyes, as he surveyed the land below them.

"Apparently, he's not the only one who's interested," he added.

He dropped the glasses and turned to the group.

"We've got company."


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed the first chapter! Sorry its taken me so long to update!**

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

**Chapter 2**

"We've got company."

Lee's warning was like a splash of ice water poured directly down Barney's spine. He crouched low as he rushed to the other man's side, raising his binoculars to perform his own inspection of the area.

In the distance, he could see a line of vehicles approaching the target area from the opposite direction, a cloud of dust trailing behind them as they made their way along the dirt road leading to the building. There were several jeeps and a couple of large SUVs, all dark in color, none of them with any discernible markings to indicate who they might be.

"Competition?" Lee questioned, the darkened tint on the windows preventing either of them from seeing who, or how many people, might be inside the vehicles.

"Could be the target." Barney stated as he turned his attention to the building, searching for any sign that the sudden appearance of the mysterious vehicles had been expected.

"How do we know for sure? Do we just sit back and see what happens?" Lee asked, a miniscule portion of Barney's earlier apprehension creeping into his own mind.

Releasing a string of curses under his breath, Barney quickly scanned over the entire area, searching for a sign to indicate what course of action they should take. This feeling of indecisiveness was new to him, the earlier doubt that had plagued him multiplying in its intensity and ensnaring his mind in its taunting grip, shaking the confidence that his team depended on so strongly to survive. If the approaching group did indeed contain their target, a premature attack would alert them to the team's presence, possibly providing an opportunity for her to escape. But if they were, in fact, competition, then this already complicated job had suddenly gotten much more difficult.

"No." Barney finally replied, his attention alternating between the building and the advancing vehicles. "If we wait, we won't have enough time to intervene if things go wrong. We go now. We'll work our way down the hillside, just like we planned. Stay low, move quickly and keep your eyes open."

"And make sure you pay attention!" he added over his shoulder as they started downward. "I don't care if you kill every single one of them, just make sure its not the girl!"

Together, the group worked their way down the steep hillside, Barney and Lee in the lead, Gunnar taking up the rear, the tall brush and rocky borders providing reasonable cover to conceal them during their descent. Catching an occasional glimpse through open patches in the foliage, Barney could see the opposing group closing in on the building, but the lack of gunfire and other threatening sounds gave him hope that his earlier doubts had been unfounded. The possibility that they might be able to complete their mission without having to even enter the dangerous confines of the structure seemed almost too good to be true, but he hoped that their luck would continue to hold out.

As they neared the bottom of the hillside, the sound of voices carried across the flat lands, although the distance was too far for Barney to make any sense of the words. The vehicles and their occupants were now hidden from view behind the building, but the fact they were doing so little to conceal their arrival pretty much ruled out any indication of a sneak attack on whoever might be inside. Stealth did not seem to be high on their list of priorities. So then, what exactly was their intention?

Holding up a hand, Barney paused, motioning for his men to hold steady behind him. He craned his neck, his ears straining to pick up the sound of more voices, that uneasy feeling rushing back with a vengeance when he realized they were no longer speaking to each other. At least, not out loud. Had they already made their way inside? Perhaps he had been wrong in his assumption there was no entrance on the far side of the building. He wondered if he'd been correct earlier when he'd suggested their target had been with the approaching group. If the building had looked so deserted before, it was because it had been. But this revelation did little to soothe his anxiety, considering if this was this case, then Church's informants had been at least partially wrong. And wrong information could easily get them killed. He glanced at Lee, who also appeared anxious, indicating he also understood the dangerous implications of these new developments.

They continued on, carefully making their way around the final bend of the trail before Barney paused once again, still listening for any sign to indicate where the approaching party had gone. There were no sounds to be heard from any direction. No movement caught his eye. It was as though they had vanished into thin air. If only he had eyes on the other side of that building to see what they were doing...

"Yang!" he hissed, motioning the smaller man forward. Yang stopped beside of him as Barney motioned toward the hillside above them. "I want you to work your way around that way, toward the other side of the building, and let me know what's going on over there. Unless there's an immediate threat, we'll wait to hear from you before we move in."

Yang studied the path Barney had indicated, taking note of the steep grade and heavy brush that lined the curved landscape.

"Why me?" he argued, not looking forward to the difficult trek.

"Because you're smaller." Barney replied, repeating Yang's favorite and often used excuse.

"You're faster. You make a smaller target. You think one of these losers could do it?" Lee chimed in, thumbing the group of Gunnar, Caesar and Toll Road over his shoulder. "Talk about a proverbial bull in a china shop. They'd be about as quiet as a herd of moose."

Yang sighed, reluctantly giving in. The longer he argued, the more time was wasted. And he knew in the end he'd be the one to make the trip anyway.

"Fine. Cover me." he replied. Barney nodded, then glanced at Lee, who indicated his own readiness with another curt nod. Together, all three men pivoted quickly toward the building, away from the safety of their cover.

The echo of the gunshot bounced off the surrounding hillside seconds after it grazed past their heads. The three of them dropped instinctively to the ground, scrambling for safety behind the rocky border of the pathway and Barney hoped that the second group of men behind them had moved just as quickly.

He risked a quick glance backward to verify that no one had been injured by the wayward projectile, but a moment's reprieve was all he was allowed before the attack began. Any hopes he had that the arriving caravan was not hostile evaporated in an instant as the sudden barrage of gunfire exploded around them. Without hesitation, his men took up their positions, returning fire on the group that had finally emerged from their hiding place from the far side of the building.

"What the hell is going on?" Christmas yelled over the gunfire, as he took out two members of the opposing faction.

"They knew we were here! So much for taking them by surprise!" Barney shouted to be heard over the noise.

Even though several members of the other group were now moving towards them, exposed and in plain view, Barney could not help but hesitate before returning fire. Each person was dressed in a similar manner, covered in black from head to toe. Everything from their pants to their long sleeve shirts to their Kevlar vests were alike, but the worst part was the dark masks that covered each of their faces, their eyes hidden behind equally dark goggles. Concealed behind the shadowy garments, there was no way to determine who it was they were shooting. Images of the woman they had been sent to capture flashed through his mind and as though they were able to read his thoughts, he could sense his other men holding back as well, waiting on specific instructions as to how they should proceed.

"There's no way we can even get close with them in the way! What the hell are we supposed to do?" Caesar asked, shouting to be heard over the noise.

"He's right." Lee added. His gun was still in position but he'd ceased firing, at least for the moment.

"We can't go in there like this. We'll never make it out alive."

Barney paused, surveying their surroundings.

"Maybe we should turn back. Find another way in?" Lee suggested, firing another shot to take out another unfortunate soul who was getting a little to close for comfort.

Barney shook his head, steeling his resolve. Mission be damned, he would not risk getting his men killed for this job. Not for someone like Church.

"No! We're not turning back!" He glanced behind him quickly, studying their faces, pleased with the determination he saw. "We're going in, just like we always do. Do what you have to do. If things end badly for Church, well, that's not exactly our fault, is it?"

"Hell no!" Toll Road agreed, shouldering his rifle. "Let's take these assholes down!"

"Christmas! Gunnar! You two come with me. Caesar, take Toll Road and Yang and work your way down that way," he instructed, pointing toward the back of the building. "Take the rear door. We'll take the front. Take down anybody that gets in your way."

With a simple nod of their heads, Caesar, Toll Road and Yang darted off to the left, keeping low as they burrowed through the underbrush.

"You guys ready?" Barney asked, although he already knew the answer as his gaze traveled between Gunnar and Christmas.

"Let's do it." Christmas replied, while Gunnar voiced his agreement with a loud grunt.

Bracing himself for the impending battle, Barney darted around the edge of the nearest tree, quickly taking aim as he took out the two individuals closest to him. Following Barney's lead, Lee made quick work of two more of the attackers, while Gunnar managed to eradicate one of his own.

But as quickly as the bodies fell, more appeared suddenly from behind the safety of the building, intensifying their assault in retaliation for the deaths of the other members, forcing Barney, Lee and Gunnar to duck for cover again. Barney glanced in the direction the rest of his team had disappeared, hoping they were having better luck on their end. Staying low to the ground, he risked a peek from behind the tree where he was hiding, only to see several members of the other group clustered around the front entrance of the building. Muttering under his breath, he turned back to the others.

"We've got to move! They're trying to get inside! We've got to get to the building now!" Barney instructed. "You guys ready for this?"

"When am I not ready?" Lee replied with a sarcastic chuckle. "Let's finish this."

Barney nodded toward the hillside behind Lee. The landscape seemed to form a natural path leading away toward another small outcropping several yards above and ahead from where he was now standing and as he turned to follow Barney's gaze, he spotted it instantly.

"You go that way. If you can get up a little higher and get farther in, maybe we can distract their attention. Divide and conquer."

"You got it!" Crouching low, with all the stealth he could muster, Lee quickly worked his way up the hillside to this new vantage point. Without hesitation, he took aim, his first shot disintegrating the head of one of the dark clad members who was working to break through the door of the building. As anticipated, the remaining members turned in unison toward the general direction from where the shot had come, randomly returning fire on a target they could not see. Taking advantage of the shift in attention, Barney and Gunnar stepped in, taking out three more individuals, but not before they successfully managed to force open the door.

Startled by the sudden divided attack, the remaining members were forced to retreat, some of them taking cover behind the safety of the structure, while others nearer to the door slipped inside But even that proved to be a fatal mistake for some, as several more shots echoed from the distance, indicating that Caesar, Toll Road and Yang had also found their marks.

"Let's go." he murmured to Gunnar, as he headed toward the building. "We've got to get inside. Keep your eyes open, in case there are more of them around."

He whistled sharply, with a broad sweep of his hand motioning for Lee to join them. They regrouped midway to the structure, weapons drawn in anticipation of another attack. Blasts of gunfire and screams of pain and surprise drifted to them from inside the building, the knot in Barney's gut twisting as they moved closer. He despised failure. And although he was not one to give up easily, he did not see any possible way they would have success with this particular mission. They would very likely win the battle. They would not stop until they were the only ones left standing. But winning in a war with Church was a whole other matter. And when he was forced to report back to Church with their failure, he had no doubt every member of the group would suffer accordingly.

The chaos emanating from inside the building pulled Barney from his thoughts, and he paused just outside the door to study the bodies within view.

"You want to take a quick look? See if she's here?" Lee asked, keeping a watchful eye on the empty doorway.

Barney shook his head, visibly relieved. "She's not. They're all too big. These are all men. Unless the other guys came across her on the other end, she could still be alive. We've got to go in."

A repetition of loud booms echoed across the landscape, muffled by the walls of the structure, the familiar sounds of the weapon followed by more shouts of confusion and surprise.

"Sounds like Caesar made it inside." Lee chuckled. "Let's go!"

Cautiously, the trio rushed forward, Barney's momentary surprise lasting only a split second before he registered the two men with guns who were waiting for him just inside the doorway. He fired, both men falling to the floor simultaneously as Lee took out the second one. Unlike the others they had encountered so far, these two men were dressed in dress slacks and button down shirts. No protective gear. No masks. Barney assumed, correctly, they had already been inside the building when the attack occurred. So much for thinking that it had been deserted.

Their weapons ready, they took stock of their new surroundings, trying to determine their next course of action. The exterior of the building was deceiving in it's size, or perhaps the interior layout just made it appear larger with its wide open spaces. It had a decidedly industrial feel, two stories tall, with the center of the main floor completely open to the exposed underside of the roof. There were several desks or workstations lined down the center of the aisle, with numerous doors lining the corridors on each side. There appeared to be a maze of metal steps and walkways that connected the ground floor to the upper level, which ran along the entire right length of the structure. This second level also consisted of one long line of rooms, however the low slope of the roof line resulted in each of the rooms protruding outward from the wall, so that each one of them had three exterior walls. The metal walkways flowed along with the shape of each room, flanking it on the three exposed sides, with large platforms stationed in front of each door. Many of the platforms had stairs leading off of them toward the ground floor, with additional stairways hidden away in the recesses between the protruding rooms. The entire space was harshly lit with bright florescent lighting, almost to the point of blindness, but it did its job well, illuminating all but the deepest corners, providing no refuge for their dangerous opposition.

If it served no other purpose, the open floor plan revealed the mass chaos that had taken over the interior of the building, the masked gunmen firing upon anything that moved, while screams of pain and fear mingled with the sound of explosives and the rain of bullets that echoed off of the towering walls. In various places along the upper platforms, Barney could see several men with guns, dressed in civilian clothes, doing their best to protect themselves from the approaching onslaught. Spotting them as they slipped through the door, one of the men fired at Barney's group, Lee returning the favor with a deadly shot that hit his target squarely in the chest, causing him to fall backward over the railing to the hard concrete floor below.

Alerted to their presence, several more men approached them, emerging from behind open doorways or appearing on the catwalks above, the existing confusion only multiplied as Barney and his group joined in the fray. Farther away, toward the back of the building, they once again heard the familiar sound of Caesar's gun, and the fact that they were now all inside together, watching each others backs, helped soothe away some of the insecurities that had continued to nag at him. Instincts kicking in, he led his group further inside, breaking through the opposition with little difficulty. Still, he couldn't help but hesitate before firing each shot, holding out hope that there was still a chance they could locate their target and take her alive.

Hiding behind the solid desk of one of the workstations, Barney studied the upper level of rooms above them, motioning toward Gunnar, indicating that he should try to work his way in that direction. With a simple nod of understanding, Gunnar broke away from the group, meeting no resistance as he approached the closest set of stairs. He spun around as more gunshots echoed behind him and watched as Barney and Lee overtook two more masked gunmen, but beyond that, as far as he could tell, he was alone. No one had seen him slip away.

For a man of his large size, Gunnar showed surprising stealth as he quickly navigated the stairs, reaching the upper platform without any difficulty. He moved along the first wall he came to and risked a peek around the corner, only to find his path ahead was clear. He continued forward, past the closed doorway, pausing just long enough to take out a gunman on the lower level, before stepping back into the shadows of the first recess on the far side of the room. He maneuvered around the second stairway, which was also empty, before steadily working his way down the exterior wall of the second room in the same manner he had done the first. But when he once again glanced around the corner, he spotted two of the masked men approaching the doorway from the opposite direction. Stepping back out of view, he readied himself, gun raised as he pivoted around the corner. Even as he moved, he heard shots ring out, and he appeared from behind the corner in time to see both men hit the ground. Something moved from the doorway, which he had only now realized was open, before stopping part way across the platform and he shifted his gun in the same direction, prepared to defend himself. His finger pressed on the trigger, pausing mid-stroke as he recognized the face staring back at him. Even as the small brunette glared at him, the murder evident in her eyes, he found himself forced to fight every instinct he had in order to keep his finger from pulling the trigger, cursing under his breath as he realized her own weapon was trained on him and aimed directly at his unprotected head.

At a loss for what he should do, Gunnar searched his brain for an idea, anything he could say or do, that might help diffuse the precarious situation. But he quickly realized that his options were few. He could take her out, which he could still do easily, and ruin the entire mission. Or he could try to overpower and disarm her, which he knew would also end badly, as he had no doubt if he made one wrong move, she would fire on him without hesitation. Based on the look in her eyes, he was genuinely surprised she hadn't taken him down already.

They both remained still, locked in a stale mate, waiting for the other to make the first move. He reminded himself that she likely did not know they were there to take her alive, but at this point , he didn't think it would matter. He could only imagine her reaction when he told her he was there for her. He'd be dead before the words were even out of his mouth.

A movement toward his left startled him, but he managed to keep his gaze focused on her as he noticed Yang approaching her from behind. Somehow, he'd managed to scale the side of the structure supporting the platform. If he could hold his position just a few seconds longer, Yang could take her by surprise and quickly subdue her. He waited, holding his breath, as Yang quietly climbed over the railing and eased to the ground behind her, prepared to strike.

Then everything fell apart.

Suddenly, another masked shooter appeared from behind the wall to the brunette's left, his gun raised.

"Look out!" Gunnar yelled, his instincts kicking in as he shifted the gun to his right and fired, the man's head disintegrating as the bullet found its mark.

Surprised, the woman ducked, obeying his command, her finger tightening unconsciously on the trigger of her own gun as she moved, a flash of pain exploding in Gunnar's left arm as the sound of the shot registered. He cursed, grabbing his injured arm, and she staggered backwards, scrambling to get away from the large man with the gun. Likewise, surprised by the sudden events, Yang tried to struggle back to his feet, but he was unable to move quickly enough, and the woman tripped over his legs as she fought to get away.

From the floor below them, Barney's gaze shifted upward at the sound of the shots, and he could only watch helplessly as the events unfolded in front of him. He could see the woman, the same one they'd been sent to save, staggering backwards, trying to escape from whatever confusion was occurring at the top of the platform. He saw her stumble over Yang's legs, throwing her off balance. He could see her grasping for the railing as she stepped backwards off the edge of the platform, her foot finding nothing but air in the open space. Finally finding his footing, Yang made a last ditch effort to grab her, but her gun was still locked firmly in her grasp and she couldn't loosen her grip on it quickly enough to take his hand. Barney watched as she tumbled down the stairs with a loud shriek, her head striking several of the hard metal risers, silencing her scream, his heart sinking as she came to rest on the hard concrete floor at the bottom of the stairs with a final sickening thud.

With the gunfire now ceased, Barney rushed to her side without caution, reaching her only moments before Gunnar and Yang. He was surprised to find she was still alive, but the small puddle of blood that was beginning to pool under her head warned him she might not be for long without help. Loosening his protective vest, he felt for the hem of his t-shirt and ripped off a large strip of fabric. With Yang's help, he managed to carefully wrap it around her head, hoping to stem the flow of blood.

"She's hurt. We've got to get out of here." Barney stated as Lee joined them.

"So's he." Lee answered, taking note of Gunnar, who was sitting on the bottom steps, watching the woman with interest as he held his injured arm. "You hit?"

"Barely. Not much more than a flesh wound. It hurts like a bitch but I'll live."

Satisfied that Gunnar was ok for the moment, Barney turned to Lee. "Round up the others. See if any of the vehicles outside still have the keys in them. We need to get back to the plane as soon as we can."

Without a sound, Lee wandered off, leaving Yang to keep a watchful eye out for any stray gunmen as Barney attended to the injured woman.

"Is she going to be ok?" Gunnar asked, watching as Barney checked for a pulse.

"I don't know. We'll hope for our sakes that she is. If we have to return her to Church in this condition, I can only imagine the kind of trouble we're in for."


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far. They are always appreciated!**

**Chapter 3**

Thin ribbons of sunlight streamed in through partially open blinds, illuminating the flecks of dust that floated above the floor of the small room. Stretched out in the full-size bed, which was positioned along the wall beside the window, the brunette's raspy breath came in a slow, steady rhythm, as it had for most of the day and a half since she'd been placed there.

As the sun rose higher in the sky and the light slowly shifted further across the room, the sound of breathing slowed even further, then stopped momentarily, before a strangled gasp was torn from her throat, jolting her awake. Eyes opening, she gazed up at the ceiling above her, her gaze automatically drawn to the path brightened by the sun. She closed her eyes again, blinking away the fogginess that filled her brain. With some difficulty, she swallowed hard, her mouth dry and her throat raw. Bracing her elbows against the mattress, she attempted to sit up, but the pain that flared through her body stopped her short. She fell back against the bed, exhaling another heavy breath. Eyes closed, she rested, summoning all her strength for another attempt. When her eyes opened yet again, she studied the room, the fading path of sunlight and the darkening shadows revealing to her that she'd fallen asleep once more.

It took several attempts, but she finally managed to roll onto her side, despite the screaming protest of her aching muscles. Pausing to catch her breath, she studied the interior of the room, trying to make sense of her surroundings. The room was small, plain but clean, sparsely decorated with only the barest minimum of furniture. Besides the bed, the only other furniture consisted of a small bedside table with a lamp and an aging dresser with a mirror, positioned against the wall opposite from the foot of the bed. Like the room, the walls were plain and bare, a solid swathe of aging white paint disturbed only by a large cork board that was hung to the left of the mirror. Several pieces of paper and what looked like a photograph were stuck to the board, but from her distance, she couldn't make sense of any of the items.

Slowly, she shifted in the bed, until her legs slipped from under the covers and draped over the edge of the mattress, the sudden draft of cool air on her bare skin making her shiver. Sucking in a deep breath and holding it, she choked back a whimper as she shoved against the mattress with what strength she could muster, forcing herself into a sitting position. Overcome with dizziness, she closed her eyes, cradling her face in her hands until the sensation abated. Another draft of air tickled her legs, and it was only then that she realized she was in a state of partial undress. She was still wearing her bra and panties and some type of gown...No, not a gown. A plain black t-shirt. A rather large one at that. What had happened to her clothes?

When the bed felt like it had finally stopped spinning, she turned her attention back to the room.

Based on the pain flowing through every limb, she expected to find herself in a hospital, surrounded by nurses and under a doctor's watchful care. But this room looked nothing like any hospital room she could imagine. She glanced at the table, then at the floor beside the bed, searching for any type of alarm or call button that she could use to summon help. Seeing nothing, her eyes traveled to the door of the room, wondering if anyone would hear her if she were to call out. Deciding against it, at least for the moment, her gaze fell on the second door in the opposite corner, which stood open, a small sink visible from her position on the bed. A bathroom. Almost on cue, her bladder seemed to come to life, protesting it's fullness, and she mentally calculated the distance between the bed and the door, even as she unconsciously turned back toward the exterior door, desperately seeking help. Still alone, she gathered her courage and worked her way toward the foot of the bed, pausing to rest before she pushed herself off of the mattress. She stood still, closing her eyes again as she grew lightheaded, doing her best to steady herself on the edge of the bed. As it passed, she began to inch her way along the foot of the bed until she reached the opposite edge and she stopped to gaze longingly at the small room in the corner. With it well out of range of the other furniture, she would have to cross the remainder of the distance on her own, without any assistance. Urgency of need spurring her on, she shuffled slowly across the worn wooden floor, mindful that any sudden movement could send her sprawling to the ground in a hopeless heap. Overwhelmed by fatigue, her head pounded fiercely, her legs unsteady as though she were trying to walk across the deck of a boat in a vicious storm. Darkness pricked at the corners of her eyes, and she thrust her arms out in front of her, seeking for something to grasp onto as the dizziness swarmed over her yet again. She felt her legs give way and she braced for the impact with the floor, which she knew was imminent.

"Hang on. I've got you."

The shock of hearing the voice jolted her from the grasp of unconsciousness, but she was too weak to do anything but accept the assistance it's owner offered, her hand finding a hold on a firm shoulder as she tried to get her legs under her again.

"You shouldn't be out of bed," The voice was gentle enough, but there was a firm undertone buried beneath the warning, strong enough to compel her to risk a glance at the man beside her. Instantly, she regretted her decision. She felt unrealistically small next to his larger stature, his expression cool and hard as the dark haired man locked eyes with her. And the fact he was standing so intimately close to her, one arm secured firmly around her waist, made her squirm with discomfort. Confused and embarrassed by her predicament, her gaze shifted longingly to the doorway which was now only inches in front of her.

"Bathroom," she mumbled weakly, struggling to pull herself away from him.

"Ok. Let me help," he demanded, guiding her the rest of the way. Reaching his hand inside the doorway, he flipped on the light.

She grasped the side of the sink, relieved to be out of the man's embrace.

"You be ok in here by yourself?" he asked and she nodded wordlessly as he shut the door. "I'll be right outside if you need anything.

The shock of seeing another person pulled her from her weakened stupor, and she relieved herself without difficulty, then washed her hands. Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she froze. A wide gauze bandage wrapped around her head, her hair poking over and around the pale cloth in wild disarray. Several bruises marred her face, predominantly on the right side, although one stray purple blotch stood out plainly on her left cheek. Her lips were dry and cracked, mostly due to thirst she realized, as she swallowed hard, her throat still sore. Fear seized her as she fingered her head gingerly, wincing when she felt the tender spot at the back of her skull. Studying her raised arm, she spotted more scrapes and bruises, and further down, similar marks on her legs. What had happened to her? Had this man done this to her? What other explanation could there be? She glanced at the closed door nervously, knowing he was waiting for her on the other side.

"You okay in there?" She jumped as he rapped on the door, fatigue consuming her again. Even if it was true, what could she do? She was much too weak to defend herself against him. And from the short glimpse she'd gotten of him, he was much too strong for her to fight off, even on her best day.

Hesitantly, she opened the door and stepped back into the room, raising a hand in protest as he reached for her again. Nodding in understanding, he motioned her back toward the bed, staying close in case she collapsed again. She took a seat on the edge of the bed, her energy drained from the short trek across the room.

"Can I get you anything?" the man asked, his voice only slightly more pleasant than before.

"Water," she requested, her voice barely a whisper. Talking only seemed to irritate her throat even further.

Without a sound, he left the room, returning minutes later with a glass of water. She sipped it gratefully, mindful not to consume too much too quickly. Setting the glass on the table, she slipped back under the covers. She was sore and exhausted and she knew sleep wasn't too far away, despite her reluctance to do so with this man so close by. He was still standing beside the bed, watching her with interest, as she settled back on the mattress. He remained quiet, the tension building, until she felt compelled to break the uncomfortable silence.

"Who are you? What happened to me?" she rasped, watching him closely.

"My name's Barney. You had an accident."

Straight to the point. Well, he certainly didn't mince words, she thought to herself, still put off by his cool demeanor.

"A car accident?"

Barney hesitated. "Something like that. How are you feeling? Any pain?"

Maybe you're not a total jerk after all, she thought, wincing as she moved.

"Yeah. Everywhere. Are you a doctor?"

He chuckled, unable to suppress a smile. For some reason, the sight of it on his face helped soothe her nerves.

"No, not a doctor," he replied. "But I happen to know one. It's probably a good idea to have him look you over again, now that you're awake."

She nodded, closing her eyes.

"Get some rest," he ordered. "I'll give him a call. Have him stop by in a little while."

"And stay in bed," he demanded coolly before shutting the door, but she was already too far gone to hear him.

XXXXXXX

Lingering in a state of half-sleep, the sound of voices jolted the brunette fully awake, and she opened her eyes moments before Barney entered the room, followed closely behind by a second man. A man, she did not fail to notice, who also seemed small next to Barney's muscular frame. She eyed them both suspiciously as she struggled to an upright position, her back resting against the wooden frame of the headboard.

Barney held back, standing close to the doorway, as the newest man approached her without hesitation, the pleasant smile on his face instantly putting her at ease. He appeared to be several years young than Barney, his skin smooth and unmarred when compared to the the older man's face, which had been worn by years of stress and hard living. Even as she studied the two men, she could not help but notice how fit Barney seemed to be despite his age, the cotton t-shirt beneath the unbuttoned flannel shirt hugging his well-muscled frame.

"May I?" the younger man asked, pointing toward the edge of the bed.

She nodded in acceptance, moving her legs to make room for him to sit down.

"It's good to see that you're finally awake. I'm glad to see all those years in med school actually paid off. It's nice to see that one of my patients has survived."

She glanced toward Barney nervously.

"Relax. I'm just joking," the doctor chuckled, patting her knee. "So, it sounds like you've had a rough time of it. How are you feeling?"

The woman paused for a moment, mentally taking stock of her aches and pains.

"I'm ok, I think. Sore. A little dizzy."

He nodded, grasping the side of her head gently, raising an eyelid as he shined a small pen light into her eye. He repeated the process on the other side, then sat back. He'd brought a small bag with him, a stereotypical black doctor's bag and she watched him curiously as he tucked the penlight back into the bag and withdrew a cuff that he placed around her arm. He took her blood pressure, then checked her pulse, his demeanor shifting from cheesy comedian to stoic professional.

"I need to take a look at the back of your head. Can you sit up a little more?" He helped her lean forward, than began removing the bandages. "Let me know if you feel any pain."

"There," she winced, as he probed a spot on the back of her head.

"The stitches look fine. I think they should heal without any problem."

Stitches? So she'd been injured even more than she thought. She sighed softly.

"How did it happen? The accident?" she asked. "Was anybody else hurt?"

The doctor met Barney's gaze over her shoulder, but neither offered a response.

"It must have been bad," she continued, unaware of the knowledgeable glances that passed between the two men. "Barney said it was a car accident, but I don't even remember driving."

"Well, it's not uncommon for someone who's been in a traumatic situation to experience some slight memory loss. Many accident victims don't remember the events leading up whatever incident might have occurred."

"Can you give us a few minutes alone, please?" The doctor directed his question to Barney, as he finished his examination of the woman's head.

Without a word, Barney slipped out the door, pulling it shut behind him. Tugging a roll of gauze from his mysterious bag, the doctor began to rebandage her wound.

"So, you don't remember anything about the accident," he offered. "Tell me the last thing you do remember."

Closing her eyes, she tried to clear her head, waiting for an answer to come to her. If she'd been driving, she had to have been going somewhere. What had she been doing? Where had she been headed? To work? Home? Despite her own gentle probing, her mind remained blank.

"I'm not sure," she murmured. She suddenly felt tired, exhausted. And she was having trouble trying to focus. "Can you tell me what I was doing? Where I was going? Maybe that will help."

"Sorry, but I don't know the details myself," he answered. "I was hoping you could fill them in for me."

"Oh," she sighed, fingers twisting through the blankets nervously.

"That's quite alright," he continued. "What about your job? Can you tell me where you work?"

With the bandage now secure, he allowed her to sit back against the headboard and he resumed his seat on the edge of the mattress facing her. She concentrated hard, her brows drawing together in a frown as she gazed at the man before her.

"I...I'm not sure. It's possible I wasn't working. Maybe I didn't have a job." she surmised, when no answers came to her. He tilted his head in acknowledgment.

"That could be true. One more question and I'll let you rest." He packed the remainder of his items back into the bag. "Can you tell me your name?"

He sat back, watching her carefully. Her eyes lit up and her mouth opened as if to answer him, then just as quickly, it all vanished.

"I'm...I...don't know." she replied, panic seizing her. She reached out, grabbing his arm, tugging on the fabric of the shirt. "What's wrong with me? Why am I here? Why am I not in a hospital? What happened to me?"

He pulled her hand off of his sleeve, and gave her hand a reassuring pat as he placed it in her lap.

"Don't worry. From what I hear, you've been through a lot these past couple of days. You're hurt, you're tired, you're weak. You have a serious concussion and some memory loss is to be expected with this kind of thing. Just rest, try not to worry. I'm sure everything will be back to normal in a few days."

Without giving her an opportunity to ask any further questions, he stepped briskly across the room to the door, and disappeared from view, shutting the door behind him with a heavy finality. Tentatively touching the new bandage that he'd wrapped so carefully around her head, her mind raced as she tried to remember something, anything, that would tell her where she was or what had happened. She did not like this situation that she'd found herself in. Being in a strange place, with strange men and rash of mysterious injuries, with no recollection of how she'd gotten there, filled her with dread. And despite the attempts of both men to placate her fears, she decided that she was not nearly as safe as either of them would like her to believe.

XXXXXXXXX

"Amnesia?" Barney released a frustrated sigh as he ran his hand through his hair. "You sure? I mean, there's no way she could be faking?"

"Very unlikely. I watched her very closely. She's disoriented. Confused. Scared, even." The younger man shook his head. "No, sorry to say, I think it's legitimate."

"So, what now. How long is this gonna last?"

"There's really no way to tell. It's very common to experience memory loss with this type of head injury. But the recovery rates can vary. It could be a few days. Could be a few weeks. Could be months even."

"Fuck." Barney muttered under his breath, rubbing his thumb along the scratchy stubble of his cheek. "And what are the odds that she doesn't remember anything? Any chance that she doesn't come out of this at all?"

The doctor shrugged. "In reality, permanent memory loss of this kind is very rare, but there's just no way to tell for sure. Right now, she needs to rest. No stress, no worries. Do what you can to keep her calm and minimize her fears. Best case scenario, she'll be back to herself in a matter of days."

"Okay. Thanks for stopping by," Barney offered a hand. "I won't keep you any longer,"

"No problem. I'll check back in a couple of days. Let me know if there's any change before then."

Barney watched the man leave, then took a seat on a nearby bar stool. Alone again, he tried to gather his thoughts, plotting out his next course of action. Of all the worse case scenarios, this was one of the worst. Church had demanded that this woman be brought to him alive and fully unharmed and now all they had to show for their efforts was a shell of a being, with no apparent memory of whatever knowledge Church had deemed so be so important. Whatever happened, Barney knew he had few options left. It would only be a matter of time before Church came knocking, and he knew if this problem wasn't resolved before he did, then there was going to be hell to pay for all of them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"So what do we do now?"

Barney sat back in his chair, his eyes squinting from the smoke wafting up from the cigar that was clenched between his teeth. His gaze wandered from Toll Road, who had asked the question, to the other men in the group, finally settling on Lee as he silently searched for suggestions.

"What's the plan?" Lee questioned on cue, as though reading Barney's thoughts. "You still going to hand her over to Church like we planned or are you going to try to hold him off for a while? See if this problem clears up on its on in a few days?"

"Either way, Church is gonna be pissed." Barney answered. He rubbed a hand across his worn forehead, mentally kicking himself for the thousandth time for ever taking on this assignment.

"What the hell does that mean for us?" Caesar questioned. "I don't want him nailing my ass to the wall just because this woman's lost her damn mind!"

Beside him, Yang shook his head but did not speak.

"What exactly are we looking at? Any idea how long it might be until she remembers something?" Toll Road added.

Barney shrugged, tapping his cigar against the lip of the ashtray. "Doc seemed to think this was only temporary, but he couldn't give me any kind of a time-line. It could be anywhere from a couple days to a few months. Maybe even longer."

"That's reassuring." Caesar mumbled.

"How long do you think we could put Church off without him becoming suspicious?" Lee asked.

"Not long. I'd say a week, at best." Barney replied, recalling the urgency Church had expressed regarding the completion of the mission.

Lee stared hard at the other man, while Toll Road, Caesar and Yang exchanged questioning glances, wondering if their thoughts on the subject were in agreement.

Lee was the first to speak again. "I say we give it a couple of days. See what happens. Who knows, maybe we'll get lucky."

Barney scoffed. "Nothing about this job has been lucky..."

"You can say that again." Gunnar added, breaking his silence as he glanced down at his left arm, which now bore a bright white bandage at the spot where he'd been struck by the bullet.

"Maybe if we keep her around long enough, she'll finish the job." Caesar quipped, as he jerked a thumb over his shoulder in Gunnar's direction, earning a laugh from the group.

"I think you're forgetting one thing," Toll Road added. "How are we going to handle keeping her here? At some point, she's bound to get suspicious and start asking questions. And there's always the risk she could try to slip away, call for help."

Barney considered it for a moment. "Then we make sure she understands that its better for her this way. That she's safer here than anywhere else. As long as it keeps trouble to a minimum, I don't see a problem with it."

"So, we're all in agreement then?" he added after a moment, when no one else offered any additional thoughts.

Stubbing the end of the cigar into the ashtray, he took an inventory of each man's approval, his gaze traveling back to Lee.

"Okay, that's it then. Just make sure you guys keep your eyes and ears open. Things could get a little interesting around here before this is over, especially if she starts remembering what happened."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Her eyelids fluttering open, the brunette awoke, thankful to be free from the unsettling dream she'd been having. But as she fully roused and took in the room around her, she realized with a sinking heart that it hadn't been a dream. The nightmare was very real.

The sunlight filtering in through the solitary window revealed that she'd apparently slept through the night undisturbed, and she wondered if she should consider that fact to be a blessing or a curse. Testing her aching limbs, she curled into a fetal position as she clutched a pillow to her chest, her thoughts drawn to the conversation she'd had with the doctor the previous evening. His prognosis of amnesia seemed almost ridiculous, nothing more than a morbid attempt at a little humor at her expense. But as she focused her thoughts and tried desperately to find the answers that had so cruelly alluded her up to that moment, she realized there was nothing remotely comical about her situation. She was alone, in a strange place, with an even stranger person, with no idea who she should call or where she should go for help.

With all of the questions swirling through her mind, and so few answers, she still did not understand why she had been brought here. Was she supposed to know this place? Did she have some kind of connection to it that she couldn't remember? Did she know Barney? Although she couldn't say for certain, instinct told her that she didn't. Based on her brief conversations with him the day before, he had not left the impression that he was familiar with her. So why was she here with him? Was there no one else out there searching for her? No one else who missed her? And if there was, how would she go about finding them?

A light knock on the door interrupted her self-interrogations, and she managed to roll over, just in time to see Barney stride through the door, a plate in one hand, a glass in the other.

"I thought you might be hungry. I know you haven't eaten anything the past couple of days." He sat the plate with two pieces of dried toast and a fried egg on the table and placed the glass of orange juice beside it. "See how you tolerate this. I can get you something else if you're still hungry."

"Thanks." she mumbled as she studied the plate of food, surprised to feel the first stirrings of her appetite returning.

"How are you feeling? Still dizzy?" he asked.

She nodded. "A little. Doesn't feel quite as bad as yesterday though. Of course, I haven't been up yet today either."

"Well, pace yourself or you'll do more harm than good." He glanced in the direction of the bathroom and pointed. "I'll see if I can find you some clean towels. You can take a shower later if you feel up to it."

She'd followed his gesture, glancing in the direction he'd pointed and she opened her mouth to offer a reply, but when she turned back toward him, she found he was already gone. She stared at the empty space where he'd been standing only moments before, a nagging thought working its way into her mind.

_He doesn't want to give me a chance to ask any questions._

Her stomach rumbling, she stared suspiciously at the food on the plate, wondering if it was safe to eat. She didn't think he would try to poison her. It wouldn't make a lot of sense to go through all this trouble to take care of her, just so he could kill her. But could he have tainted it with something else?

Sliding up against the bed frame, she lifted the plate and studied the contents, although she knew it was a futile effort. If anything had been added to her food, it wouldn't be obvious. But it was just toast. Really, what harm could somebody do with a piece of toast?

Gingerly, she picked up a slice and nibbled it lightly, hoping her stomach would cooperate and keep it down. The thought of a hot shower also appealed to her and she hoped that a full stomach and a thorough scrub down would be the first step on the quick path to recovery. Thorough but gentle, she reminded herself, her sore muscles still protesting any exaggerated movements.

She managed to eat most of toast, but only a couple bites of egg, the runny yolk making her stomach churn as it ran across the plate. As she sipped on the glass of juice, she reclined against the headboard of the bed, and surveyed the room again, searching for anything of importance that she might have missed during her earlier observation. A quick glance around the space revealed that the only thing even remotely interesting was the cork board hanging on the wall across from her. Curious, she placed the glass on the table beside her and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, standing up cautiously. As before, her head began to swim, but it passed more quickly this time, and she remained upright, holding herself steady until it was gone. Slowly, she shuffled across the room, her body still aching with every step, her legs only slightly more sturdy than the last trip she'd undertaken. She braced herself on the edge of the dresser as she stopped in front of the board and examined it.

Colored push pins tacked several slips of paper to the board, most of them containing information that appeared meaningless, at least to her. There were a few dates, a couple of names that were likely some obscure geographical locations, although she wasn't really certain about that point, and on a yellow sticky note, the phrase _The best way out is always through _was printed neatly in black ink. There was a white business card stuck to the upper right hand corner, advertising a hunting supply business. And in the bottom corner, tucked behind the wooden border of the board, was a photograph of a man, each of his arms wrapped securely around the shoulders of a little girl. He was dark skinned, well built, the smile on his face indicating he was proud of the two children who were by his side. She studied the picture carefully, wondering if perhaps this person might be someone she knew. Could he be the reason she was here?

Her gaze shifted downward to the dresser by her side, and she studied it for a moment before fumbling with the handle on the first drawer and pulling it open. To her disappointment, it contained nothing of importance, only multiple pairs of sock and some mens' underwear. Pushing it back into place, she side-stepped to the adjoining slot and opened it, but, as the first drawer, it held only clothing, two stacks of neatly folded t-shirts, arranged in color coordinated patterns. Shutting the second compartment, she looked down at the four remaining unopened drawers, suddenly feeling tired. She decided she simply didn't have the strength left to search through the rest of them. Not that there appeared to be much point in it anyway. Exhausted, she limped back to the bed and buried under the covers, closing her eyes to rest, just for a few minutes.

Sometime later, she opened her eyes, her senses telling her that she'd drifted off to sleep yet again and she wondered how long it would be until she would be strong enough not to have to take a nap every time she made a trip across the room. _Don't push yourself_, she thought, reminding herself of Barney's earlier warning. _You'll get there soon enough._

Almost on cue, she heard the door open and she lifted her head, expecting to see Barney again. Instead, someone else appeared in his place, the doorway suddenly filled by the frame of the large man she recognized only by the photograph she'd examined earlier. Although she'd been able to tell plainly from the photo that he was a large man, it in no way prepared her for the sight of him standing in front of her now. If she'd thought Barney was big, he was nothing compared to this newest arrival, whose muscular build was made only more obvious by the sleeveless shirt he currently wore. And considering the fact that the expression on his face matched the same mask of indifference that Barney generally displayed, she was suddenly overcome with the desire to be invisible.

"Sorry. Thought you were sleeping." he mumbled toward her apologetically, eying her warily as he stepped across the room to the dresser. "I just need to grab a couple things real quick and I'll be out of your way."

She watched, curiously, as he opened one of the bottom drawers and removed a dark wooden box, tucking it under his arm. Immediately, she found herself regretting the fact she hadn't taken the time to examine those other drawers, wondering if the mysterious object might be something that could have been of some use to her. Intrigued, her eyes followed him as he strode back toward the door.

"Wait. Before you go...can you tell me...do I know you?" she asked, hopefully, finding her courage.

Caesar hesitated, fidgeting nervously in the doorway. "Uh..no. We've never met."

"Oh. Well, can you tell me why I'm here then? Is there someone else here that I do know?"

He shifted his gaze sideways, staring longingly at the door, anxious to make his escape. Despite the agreement that the team had reached earlier about how to handle this situation, he did not want to be the one to have this conversation with her.

"You'll have to talk to Barney about that."

"I see." she replied, disappointed. "So, this is your room then? I'm sorry to be in your way. I'll try to be out of here as soon as I can."

"It's no problem," he replied, distractedly. "The room's yours for as long as you need it."

Without giving her a chance to ask any more questions, he quickly slipped through the open doorway and disappeared.

_Why does every one seem so eager to keep their distance from me?_ she wondered, comparing Caesar's obvious discomfort to Barney's own odd behavior.

Her eyes shifted back to the door, which she realized was now partially open, due to the large man's hasty retreat and immediately her curiosity peaked, as she studied the new scenery just beyond her room. Hesitantly, she crawled from the bed again and moved as stealthily as she could across the floor, pausing twice to ward off the lightheadedness that never seemed to completely ebb. At the doorway, she tilted her head, listening for any indication that someone else might be close by, then she opened the door and stepped outside.

She found herself standing in a short hallway, which was lined with three additional doors, two on the wall across from her, one beside her, just before the narrow passageway ended on her left. She glanced to the right, where she could see the hallway emptied into a larger space, but from where she stood she couldn't make out anything else about it.

As before, the thought of exploring the area suddenly exhausted her, but she forced herself to continue forward, reminding herself what had just happened with the drawers she had failed to examine.

_It could have been nothing_, she reminded herself, picturing the box the large man had carried off. _Or it could have been something_, she argued, urging herself on. _And now you'll never know_.

She stepped across the hall, toward the door closest to her, which stood open. She hoped that the absence of any artificial lighting meant it was empty, and she peered inside cautiously, steadying herself on the door frame. When she was satisfied that she was alone, she took a step further inside the room and looked around. This space was nearly identical to her own, with a bed that was currently empty, but unmade, with two small square tables positioned on either side. There was also a dresser, this one with no mirror, and an addition of a bookcase stuck in the far corner of the room, the colorful spines of the books arranged in a random, but neat, display. Smaller stacks of books adorned the surface of each table beside the bed, but beyond that, there was nothing really personal that stood out in the room.

Her gaze drifted back to the bed as a new thought wormed its way into her mind. Was it possible that perhaps she was not alone here? That maybe there had been others with her who had also been injured? She stepped backward, out into the hallway and examined the two remaining closed doors to her left, one on either side of the aisle. Were there others, like her, tucked away inside, behind those doors? Her mind still fuzzy, she tried to recall if Barney had mentioned any such information.

"What are you doing out of bed?" She gasped as she spun around quickly, clutching at the wall frantically as her vision went black from the sudden movement, expecting at any moment for the ground to rise up and meet her.

"I...I..just..."

"You shouldn't be up walking around. I told you not to push yourself. The last thing I need right now is for you to hurt yourself even more." Barney scolded, as he motioned her back inside her own room.

"I'm sorry...I just thought that there might be other people here. Somebody else that I could talk to..."

Barney sighed. "There are other people here. And now that you know, you don't have to go stumbling around all over the place to find out."

She sat down on the edge of the mattress, facing him as he remained in the doorway.

"So there are others then? Like me? Who were injured?"

"I didn't say that."

"Well, what then?" she sighed. "Who are these other people? And who was that other man who was here earlier? Is there anybody in this place that I'm supposed to know?"

"You don't know any of us." he snapped, his patience wearing thin. He could already see that this situation was going to be more of a headache than he anticipated. "And that other man works for me. They all do."

She swallowed hard, as she let the unexpected knowledge sink in.

"How...how many of you are there?" she asked, nervously. The idea of dealing with Barney alone was troublesome. The knowledge that there was apparently a whole gang of them to contend with was a different matter entirely.

"There are seven of us here, on a good day."

_Seven? _she thought. _How is that even possible?_

"And on a bad day?"

"You don't want to see a bad day." he warned.

She stared at him hard, wondering if he was being honest, or if he was just trying to frighten her, then realized she really didn't want to know the answer. She also decided rather quickly that she didn't want to see any of them on a bad day. Especially if they were all blessed with Barney's intimidating personality.

Inwardly, she cringed, taking tally of her situation. Seven of them versus one of her. She was more helpless in this place than she'd initially realized.

Barney stepped forward and placed a couple of towels and a small plastic bag of toiletry items on the bed beside of her. "In case you feel up to taking a shower later. Mind those stitches," he warned pointing toward her head. "Doc said it's ok to get 'em wet, just be careful not to rip 'em out. I'll see if I can't round up some more clothes for you somewhere."

He hesitated beside the bed, then reluctantly pulled a brown envelope from his back pocket and studied it for a moment, before placing it on top of the towels.

"This is yours. It's everything you had on you when the accident occurred. Maybe something in there will jog your memory."

Shocked, she nodded as she stared at it, her previous concerns over her situation already forgotten.

I'll leave you to it then. I'll check back with you later."

She barely heard him as he left the room and closed the door behind him, all her attention focused on the envelope and its mysterious contents. She prayed that Barney was right and whatever information was inside would be the key to helping her unlock her memory. In what seemed like slow motion, she reached for it, and placed it in her lap, her pulse quickening as she unhooked the metal clasp and slide the contents onto the bed. She froze when she saw her own face, bright and undamaged, staring back at her, her driver's license topping the stack of items.

Isabelle Benford

102 Brookview Drive

Charlotte, NC

She studied the information beside the picture, a pit forming in her stomach when the knowledge of her name failed to spark any recognition. Placing the driver's license to the side, she shifted through the remaining items, her hopes diminishing with every one of them she examined. There were two credit cards in her name, a folded stack of money totaling $232, a small handful of change and a plain key ring with several keys. She flipped through the keys absentmindedly, searching for any unique markings that might spark some sense of familiarity. Finding nothing unusual, she dug back through the items and plucked out the driver's license, committing the address to memory. Despite her increasing frustration, the fact that her name was no longer a mystery provided at least some semblance of comfort, even if she hadn't remembered it on her own.

Suspicion growing, she flipped through the items again, her thoughts shifting back to Barney. Certainly, he'd looked through these items too, seeking his own information about her identity. But how could she be certain that he'd given her everything he'd found in her possession, as he had claimed? If anything was missing, how would she ever know?

The vague answers. The distant tone. The more she interacted with him, the more she became convinced that he was hiding something from her. Surely, if he were as helpful as he would have her believe, there would be no reason for such mystery. She thought about the unexplored areas just beyond her doorway, wondering what secrets were waiting for her discovery on the other side.

_What else do you know about me Barney?_

_And, whatever it is, why are you keeping it from me?_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Secrets or no secrets, Isabelle concluded that she would have to thank Barney for his hospitality, even if he was intent on being a jerk.

She sighed as the hot water from the shower pounded on her skin, her nerves shrieking and her bruises throbbing, but she thought nothing else on earth so torturous could feel so heavenly at the same time. Resting her head against the shower wall to dispel the dizziness, she let the water cascade over her, the heat rejuvenating her, bringing her worn and broken body back to life.

Halfheartedly, she washed her hair, most of her scalp still too painful to touch, mindful to keep the stitches out of the direct flow of the water. She lathered up a washcloth with the soap Barney had brought her, some pink concoction that smelled like fruit and flowers. She studied the bottle a moment, a small container that was undoubtedly new, and she wondered if he had picked it out himself, or if he had sent someone else to do the shopping for him. For some reason, the thought made her uncomfortable, but it didn't prevent her from savoring the feel of the liquid as it glided across her skin, even over those areas that were swollen and discolored, happy to feel at least halfway human again.

She enjoyed it for as long as she could, until the water began to turn cold, then she reluctantly turned off the spray and stepped out on the mat. By the time she finished drying off, she could feel the fatigue seeping into her bones again, the exertion of a simple shower enough to wear her down in her weakened state. With no extra clothes, she slipped on the same oversized t-shirt she'd previously worn and stumbled back to the bed, her gaze once more falling on the array of items that, at this moment, provided the only visible link to her past. She stared at them longingly for a moment, before scooping them up and depositing them on the table beside the bed. As she settled beneath the blankets, her exhausted mind wandered, as she considered what options she might have that would help her get to the bottom of this strange mystery once and for all. No solutions appeared to her, but despite her distressing problems, sleep claimed her quickly, and she napped away most of the afternoon, interrupted only by another impromptu visit from Barney.

He entered the room quietly, and she supposed if she hadn't already been partly awake, she never would have heard him slip inside. The thought disturbed her. How many other times might he have visited her while she was sleeping and vulnerable, blissfully unaware of his imposing presence and helpless to defend herself against him? She eyed him warily as he approached her, surprised to see that, like his last visit, he carried another bag, which he deposited for her on the bed.

"I got you some clean clothes. Had to guess some of the sizes, but they should all fit." he stated, in that same impassive tone he always used, before heading for the door again.

"Barney, wait. I want to talk to you."

Despite her growing frustration, Isabelle was smart enough to realize that, at this moment, Barney was the only source of information that she had. Aware enough to know that she did not want to alienate him anymore than what she already had, she tried not to sound too demanding, but from Barney's response, she wasn't successful. She could see the muscles of his back flex as he exhaled a heavy sigh of annoyance, before he turned to face her again.

"About what?" he questioned, even though he suspected he already knew the answer to the question.

"About this." She swiped her license from the table and held it up. "I know you've seen this. You know my name. You know where I live. So I want to know why I'm here and not there. I want to go home. Now."

He stared at her wordlessly for a moment and Isabelle found herself unconsciously scooting away from him as he moved toward her and took a seat on the edge of the mattress.

"That's not an option right now."

"What do you mean, it's not an option?" she challenged, skeptically. "I've had enough of these secrets Barney. What is really going on here? Why can't I go home?"

"Because it's not safe."

_And it's not safe here either_, he thought, a smidgen of guilt worming its way into his mind as he briefly considered what it was that Church wanted from this woman.

"I don't understand. What do you mean it's not safe?"

He paused momentarily, mentally reviewing the explanation he'd put together just for this purpose, wondering if there were any loopholes that he might have overlooked.

"This 'accident' that you had, well, let's just say that 'accident' isn't a very accurate description. This wasn't a mistake. Somebody tried to hurt you on purpose."

_That's not so bad_, he thought, after actually saying the words out loud. Especially considering that it was at least partially true.

She stared at him in shock. "What...what do you mean it wasn't an accident? Why would somebody do that? Why me? I mean...I don't know anything..."

_No, you don't know anything now_, she reminded herself. _But you could have, before all this mess started. You could have known quite a bit. But about what?_

"Right now, we don't know." Barney lied. "And since you can't remember...well, it kind of puts everybody in a difficult spot. Since we don't know who caused this or why it happened, we have to assume that you're still in danger. That's why you're here. So we can keep an eye on you."

"We?"

"Yes. All of us."

"So, that's what you do then?" she asked, partially relieved to at least have a few answers. "You and the other guys? You protect people?"

Barney smirked slightly. "Let's just say, we take care of things that need taken care of."

"So, nobody knows that I'm here, then?" she asked, after a moment. "I mean...I just...I must have family. Parents. Friends. They must all be worried. I have to let them know that I'm ok..."

"No." Barney warned, cutting her off. "Nobody knows you're here and it's important to keep it that way. We can't reveal anything to anybody, considering we don't know who's behind this. Right now, there are only a handful of people who know what's really happening here. And we're going to keep it that way until this job is finished."

"Well, how long do you think this is going to take? I can't just stay here indefinitely. I have to do something..."

"No, _you'll_ do nothing. _We'll_ do something." he warned. "I know this isn't an ideal situation, but I'm sure it will be cleared up soon enough. Until then, just ride it out. Keep a low profile. You cause problems for us, it's going to cause problems for you. Simple enough."

He rose from the bed and started toward the door again.

"Get dressed and meet me outside."

She looked at the bag beside of her, then back to him.

"Why? Where are we going?"

"Well, now that you know why you're here, might as well meet the rest of the guys. I'll be out here when you're ready." He left the room, closing the door behind him.

_This really isn't happening to me,_ she thought, staring at the closed door in shock as she tried to process the newest information. What kind of life could she have possibly been living that had led her here, under such strange and apparently dangerous circumstances?

Not wanting to keep Barney waiting, she reluctantly dumped the contents of the bag on her bed, and sifted through them. She selected a pair of jeans and another plain black t-shirt, much like the one she already wore, although this one was more in line with her correct size. _Not much for color, is he?_ she thought, as she slipped it over her head, mindful of the tender spot on the back of her skull. Stepping into the bathroom, she found the brush that had been in the bag of items he'd given her earlier, and she attempted to brush out the tangled mess on top of her head, every jerk making her scalp throb, her eyes full of tears by the time she was done. _Well, that's what you get for falling asleep with wet hair_, she sighed.

On her way back through the room, she paused beside the bed, once more studying her belongings. Then, with a heavy feeling of dread, she opened the door and stepped outside. Barney was waiting for her at the end of the hallway and he turned to glance at her when he heard the door open, motioning for her to follow him. She emerged into the larger space, one long, solid wall running the length of the entire area. There were two couches and two additional chairs placed in a random grouping, facing a flat-screen television that had been mounted on the wall. They passed a doorway on their right and even though Barney did not stop to look inside, a quick glance on the way past indicated that it was a small kitchen and dining area. Just past the kitchen, there was a second hallway, much like the first, with a couple of doors on either side. And just beyond that, in the far corner, was an old industrial elevator.

"Wait. Is this thing safe?" she asked, as Barney stepped onto the elevator platform.

"Probably not. But we use it anyway. Let's go." he stated, motioning her forward. He closed the gate, then pushed a button, the elevator beginning its descent as Isabelle closed her eyes and braced herself against the railing, the sudden motion made her head swim.

"This way." he instructed, as the car slowed to a stop and he stepped off the platform into the larger space, veering off to the right behind the elevator shaft. Isabelle paused as she stepped off the elevator, as she tried to take in her new surroundings. Based on the parts and the machinery she saw scattered about the vast space, it appeared as though she was standing in a garage of some sort, although she wasn't sure what kind, as her gaze fixed on what looked like an airplane propeller stuck in the far corner of the building. And ahead of her, against the far wall, she could see a separate, much cleaner work space set up, two booths with mirrored walls, surrounded by mountains of framed flash art. _A tattoo parlor? _she questioned, as she glanced back at the airplane parts in the corner.

"You coming?"

She jumped as Barney reappeared behind her, pulling her from her thoughts.

"Yeah, sorry." she murmured, giving the room once last glance as she dutifully fell in line behind him.

XXXXXX

"It's a good thing you remembered to swipe that from your room. It would be a shame if you were to have your throat cut with your own razor." Toll Road taunted, taking a drink from the bottle of beer on the bar in front of him.

Sitting beside him, Caesar snorted as he polished the steel blade of the large straight razor in his hand, one of his most prized possessions. "You're the one sleeping across the hall. She'd get to you first. In fact, you might want to keep your eyes...and your ear...open, just in case I left something else in there for her to find."

"Like he'd ever be lucky enough to find a woman in his room." Lee quipped, from across the room, where he tinkered with his motorcycle.

"Ain't that the truth." Caesar laughed. "Unless you paid her twice the price and told her to keep her eyes closed the whole time."

Toll Road glared at his friend, before shouting over his shoulder at Lee. "Speaking of which, I haven't seen Lacey around here in a while. How are the wedding plans coming along? Or do I sense some trouble in paradise?"

"Nothing you'd understand my friend." Lee replied, as he stood up, wiping the grease from his hands. "Besides, you're the last person I'm going to go ask for relationship advice."

Alone in the corner, Yin Yang shook his head as he ease dropped on the conversation, the faintest trace of a smile crossing his face as he typed away on the laptop in front of him.

The sound of Barney clearing his throat caught their attention and they all simultaneous looked up at him as he joined them.

"Alright guys, listen up. You're all familiar with Isabelle." He turned toward her as she hesitantly joined his side, and he waved his hand in a sweeping gesture toward the men who were scattered about the room. "These are the other guys I was telling you about. Toll Road, Hale Caesar, Yin Yang and Lee Christmas."

She studied each one of the men in turn, the sinking feeling in her stomach growing stronger with each passing second. It was obvious from their reactions that none of them were thrilled with the idea of her being there. From the small Asian in the corner who all but ignored her presence, to the two smooth-headed men who glared at her suspiciously, to Caesar, who still sported the same unfriendly look he'd worn the last time she'd seen him, there wasn't a kind word or a friendly gesture to be had among any of them.

"I've gone over everything with her already. She knows why she's here and what we're doing to try to help her. So there shouldn't be any problems." Barney glanced down at her as he finished speaking.

Isabelle meet his gaze, before taking in the other men again. "Wait. Aren't you missing a couple of people? You said there were seven of you, right?"

Barney nodded. "Well, Tool runs the poor excuse for a tattoo shop you were looking at a few seconds ago. He's part owner of the building. He still hangs with us, but he's retired, more or less."

"I'd say more, if you ask me." Lee stated, as he prodded some hidden part of the bike with a screwdriver. "Unless you're referring to his new career of trying to keep a steady girlfriend."

Barney shot him a warning glance that went unobserved, but otherwise remained quiet.

"And the other one?" Isabelle continued.

Barney shrugged. "Gunnar? He's probably lurking around here somewhere."

"You guys ready?" he asked, turning his attention back to the group.

"Waiting on you." Caesar replied, as he hid the wooden box beneath the bar where he was sitting. He'd quickly tucked the straight razor away inside of it as soon as he'd seen Isabelle enter the room.

"Ok. Give me just a second." Exiting the room, Barney backtracked the way he'd just come, motioning for Isabelle to follow him again. She gave one last curious glance at the remaining men before trailing after him.

"We've got some work to do." he stated, leading her back toward the elevator.

"I don't see any reason to keep you locked in your room, as long as you remember what we talked about earlier." he warned, motioning her onto the platform. "There's a tv upstairs if you get bored. And there's food in the kitchen. Help yourself if you're hungry."

She stepped onto the elevator and Barney leaned forward, his voice low. "Just remember. I don't want any trouble. Understood?"

Crossing her arms, she nodded at him. Really, what choice did she have? "Understood."

Barney smiled at her. "Good. Then we should get along just fine."

Stepping back, he closed the gate and punched the button, sending her on her way.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Back on the top floor, Isabelle took a moment to look about the area before wandering into the kitchen, the rumbling in her stomach warning her it was time to eat again. Opening a couple of cabinets, she perused the variety of food items, before selecting a jar of peanut butter from one of the shelves. Sifting through the drawers, she finally found a spoon, which she used to dip the peanut butter out of the jar and spread it onto two slices of bread she'd taken from the loaf sealed in a plastic bag on the counter.

She didn't bother with a plate, opting instead to eat over the sink as she studied the area, surprised to find the kitchen much cleaner than she had anticipated, considering the whole building was pretty much a man cave for the pack of tough guys currently milling about on the bottom floor of the place. She tried to picture one of them – any of them – washing the dishes or even trying to cook a meal and the mental image she conjured up made her giggle. Somehow, it softened her impression of them and she thought it was definitely a sight that would be amusing to watch.

Unlike the rooms that she'd seen so far with their singular windows, the kitchen had more than its fair share, a wide row of them side by side, running along the wall behind the sink. As a result, the room was well lit with natural light, and it was warm, almost uncomfortably so, the bright sunlight heating the enclosed space from the outside. Unfortunately, given all of the potential, the view was severely lacking. She'd conjured up images of a friendly neighborhood, lined with cozy homes and lush greenery, the streets full of loving families intent on enjoying the beauty of the day. However, the only scene visible from her vantage point was strictly commercial, concrete lots full of additional warehouse buildings, similar to what she imagined this place might look like from the outside and a few taller buildings, that could have been office space, or perhaps some low rent apartment buildings.

Her eyes drifted lower, falling to the streets below, and she watched the cars speeding past, normal people, with normal lives, rushing off to complete whatever tasks they had on schedule for the day, and she was stricken with a sorrowful sense of longing, wondering if her own life would ever be so simple for her again.

With a sigh, she shoved the last bit of sandwich into her mouth and dusted her hands over the sink. She made sure to put everything away, just as she'd found it, washing the spoon and wiping the crumbs from the counter, before she turned to leave. Much to her surprise, she found the doorway suddenly blocked and she froze in place as a giant of a man stepped into the room, ducking his head slightly to avoid hitting it against the upper portion of the door frame.

"Fuck...stupid..." Gunnar was focused on his injured arm, which he held with his better hand, fingers cupped around the now unbandaged and bleeding wound. Catching a movement out of the corner of his eye, he lifted his head, his gaze falling on the much smaller woman as he entered the kitchen.

He hesitated for a moment, glaring at her, before stepping further inside the room, remembering what had happened the last time they'd been face to face in such a manner.

"So, Barney finally let you out of your cell." he mumbled, glancing at his arm again as he staggered past her.

Startled, Isabelle retreated as he moved closer, until the countertop at her back halted her progress, then she scrambled to the side as he reached for the cabinet next to where she had been standing. Much to her dismay, she found herself trapped in the corner, between the man's large frame and the rectangular table with mismatched chairs that had been crudely shoved against the wall.

"You...you must be...number seven." she stammered, watching as he rummaged through the contents of the cabinet.

He paused, throwing her a sidelong glance. "Number seven?"

"Yeah. The..uh...missing person...guy ….that Barney...mentioned. Gunnar...was it?"

"Yeah. That's me." he grunted, as he tugged a metal box from one of the shelves and placed it on the counter, rummaging through it as he searched for whatever it was he was looking for.

Still astonished at the sheer size of the man, she couldn't help but stare at him as he went about his task. Like Barney, the lines on his worn face betrayed his age, the result of a hard and unforgiving life, if the curved scar on his cheek served as any indication. He did not appear to be as fit as Barney or Caesar, but she doubted it put him at much of a disadvantage, given his height or the span of his shoulders or the thickness of his biceps, heavily muscled or not. Unavoidably, her eyes were drawn to the dark ink of the tattoo that graced the skin of his left arm, and the rugged wound just below it, a dark streak of blood trickling down the inside of his arm.

"You're hurt?"

"Your arm." she added, when he gave her a confused look.

He grunted again as he plucked a sealed bandage from the box. "I'll live."

Her eyes flicked up long enough to observe the scowl on his face, then drifted back to the bleeding hole in his arm.

"That looks painful. What happened?"

He chuckled sarcastically. "What happened?" he growled, turning on her. "You..."

Biting his tongue, he slammed the lid closed on the metal box and shoved it back into the cabinet, making Isabelle jump.

"Nothing. It was an accident." he mumbled, before he turned and stalked out of the room, ducking again as he exited through the door.

Startled, she watched him disappear, her curiosity heightened at the mention of an accident. Was it possible he'd been injured at the same time as her? If so, how? He certainly appeared to be in much better shape than she herself was in.

Confused, she left the kitchen, pausing in the doorway long enough to ensure the big man wasn't hanging around outside. Seeing no trace of him anywhere, she headed back to her own room, her mind racing as she wondered if perhaps she'd just found what she'd been hoping for all along - the missing piece of the puzzle, that might just be her ticket to solving this strange mystery once and for all.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

William Ramsey was awakened promptly at 5:30 a.m by the steady chirping of the alarm clock, the same as he was every morning. By 6:00 a.m., he was hard at work in the gym, which was located on the ground floor of the high rise apartment building where he resided, already breaking a sweat as he completed his thirty minutes of cardio on the treadmill. He followed up with an additional thirty minutes of weight training, using a variety of machines and free weights, before wrapping up his work out with a brisk swim, consisting of ten laps around the Olympic sized swimming pool.

By 8:00, he was showered, dressed and just starting his second cup of coffee, which he enjoyed while reading the morning paper, the same as he did every day.

But today was not like every other day.

By 8:45, he was comfortably seated in the backseat of a black sedan as it sped down the highway, one of the many perks of his job, that also came complete with his own personal driver. The coffee drunk, the paper read, he stared out the tinted window at the accompanying traffic, hoping it would continue to flow at an unhindered pace. A delay due to traffic conditions would not be an acceptable excuse. Not today.

Much to his chagrin, his hopes went unheeded, the morning commute disrupted by a minor traffic accident somewhere in front of him, throwing him off his delicate schedule. As the large office building finally came into view, he drummed his fingers impatiently on the car door as the driver rolled to a stop in front of it, taking it upon himself to open the door and exit the car before the driver had the opportunity to slide from behind the wheel and do it for him. Briskly striding up the steps, he breezed through the security checkpoint and entered the vast lobby of the modern constructed building, located just outside the crowded metropolis of Washington D.C., in the equally crowded center of Northern Virginia. Bypassing the receptionist area, he instead veered off to the right, toward an armed officer who stood guard next to a matching set of elevator doors. With a curt nod, he produced his credentials from the breast pocket of his coat, along with a business card, on the back of which, a code had been written. The officer checked the information against the list on his clipboard, then returned both items and motioned for him to continue toward the elevator.

New arrivals to the building frequently made the erroneous assumption that the essential areas of the building only expanded skyward, as they did in other similarly constructed high rise buildings throughout the area. However, this was no ordinary building. He stepped forward to the closed doors of the elevators and selected the solitary button located between the two cars, waiting impatiently for one set to open. As he stepped inside, he entered a five digit code onto the keypad located above the standard directional buttons, which sent him plummeting in the opposite direction, down into the secretive, deeper recesses of the building.

Like so many of the government buildings located in and around the nation's capital, this one contained it's fair share of secret passageways, hidden rooms and concrete bunkers, meant to protect those deemed worthy enough to survive in the event of a catastrophic event, or at least those wealthy enough to purchase their rightful spot, if they so desired. The richest of the rich. The greediest of the greedy. He could only imagine where the fate of the country might lie if these men where the only individuals to survive if such an incident were to occur.

Rushing through the empty maze of corridors throughout this subterranean level, he approached the room he was looking for, pausing outside long enough to knock, before he received instructions to enter. As he stepped inside, he glanced at the clock on the wall behind the desk, and saw to his disappointment that he was three minutes late for his 9:30 appointment. He hoped that his host would not notice.

He stood silently in the middle of the room, staring nervously at the back of the leather chair behind the desk, as he waited for the other man to initiate the conversation. Not that he was in any hurry. He already knew this would likely not be a pleasant meeting.

"You're late," the man in the chair stated, as he slowly swiveled to face him. "Of course, I'm beginning to expect that kind of sloppiness from you."

"I'm sorry, sir. Traffic was a bit hectic this morning..."

"I don't care about your excuses." the second man commented. "When I say 9:30, I mean 9:30 exactly. Not two minutes before, certainly not three minutes after. 9:30. Understand?"

"Yes sir, Mr. Church. "Of course."

Still reclining comfortably in the chair, the second man rested one ankle on the opposite knee, elbows propped on the armrests, his hands tented in front of him as he tapped his fingers impatiently against each other.

"Now, speaking of excuses, do you care to explain to me what the hell happened to our plan? The same plan that, if I remember correctly, you said would be "a walk in the park. And yet, for something so simple, here we are, yet again, and nothing's changed. So please tell me how it is that after all of our discussions, that Barney Ross and his pathetic gang of misfits are all still alive."

"I don't know, sir. I thought that..."

"You don't know? Really?" Church questioned. "How is that possible considering you were the one in charge of this little operation?"

William shrugged. "I was misled, sir. The men I hired were apparently under-qualified for this job..."

His voice trailed off as the second man leaned forward and glared at him. Church gripped the armrests tightly before standing and walking across the office, leaving his back to his guest as he studied the contents of the bookshelf in front of him.

"This was supposed to be a simple job." Church stated. "Eliminate those men. Eliminate all witnesses. Mission completed. Problem solved."

"Yes, sir. I understand..."

"But now, not only is Barney Ross still alive, but he has the girl. And I'm sure that by now, he's got her singing like a bird and she has undoubtedly told him everything that she knows."

"I'm sorry, sir." William stammered. "I can assure you that I will take care of everything..."

"You're damn right you're going to take care of everything!" Church shouted, turning on him. "Because as long as those men are still alive, then I've got one hell of a target on my back. And if I've got a target on my back, that means you've got a target on your back. Let me make this very clear to you Ramsey. If I go down for this, make no mistake, I will have no problem taking you with me."

William remained silent as the second man circled the remainder of the distance around his office, returning to his desk and taking his seat once more. Church glared up at his companion.

"You've got one more chance to make this right." he warned. "Take care of Barney Ross and the rest of his thugs. Take care of the girl. You screw this up again, it will be your head on the chopping block. Understand?"

William nodded. "Yes, sir. I understand. I'll just..."

"Good. You're dismissed."

Church turned his attention to the files spread out on his desk and William hesitated momentarily, before he realized there would be no additional instructions forthcoming.

"Yes, sir." he murmured, as he started for the door and left the office.

Outside in the corridor, he loosened his tie, the heat rising in his face as he fumed. Nothing pissed him off more than taking the fall for someone else's incompetence. And apparently, the men he'd hired to do this job for him had been up to their necks in it. Now that Barney Ross knew he was the one who'd been targeted, it only made his job that more difficult. And dangerous. Like Church, he was going to have to seriously contemplate going into hiding until this whole thing was completed.

Stalking down the corridor from which he'd come, he mentally ran through a list of tasks he had to accomplish as he plotted out his next steps, and he scowled.

Today would not be a good day.

Not for him.

Not for anyone.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"Well, everything looks like it's healing nicely. A few more days, and I'll be able to remove these stitches."

Isabelle flinched slightly as Doc probed at the back of her head.

"How are you feeling? Still experiencing any dizziness or sickness?"

"A little. It comes and goes. But its nothing I can't handle."

"Good." Doc stepped back and smiled down at her. "Just take it easy for a while longer. Don't do anything too strenuous and you should be fine."

She watched him gather up his things and return them to his case, noticing when he gave her a sidelong glance.

"I have to ask...how's the memory?" he questioned. "Any improvement yet?"

Frowning, she shook her head. "No, still nothing. I just don't understand. I thought this would all be better by now. How is it that I can't remember a single thing about my life before all of this happened?"

"Well, like I told you before, it's a fairly common occurrence. I can only imagine how frustrating it is for you, but try not to worry about it. Stressing yourself out will only make things worse. Just give it some more time. I'm sure this will all be over with soon."

Case in hand, he started for the door. "Take care of yourself, okay. I'll see you in a few days."

"Thanks." she murmured, sighing as she watched him disappear through the doorway.

Reclining back on the bed, Isabelle fought the urge to cry as she stared at the same bland walls that had served as her only refuge during the time she'd spent here. Restless, lonely and bored, she was still uncertain of exactly what her place here was supposed to be. Even after several days of living in close quarters with this odd collection of men, there had been no improvement in her relationship with the group. It was obvious from their attitudes that they considered her an outsider, a troublesome intruder who had inconveniently encroached upon their sacred male territory. And one they were begrudgingly required to babysit, at that. So far during her brief stay, she'd had the unshakable feeling that the only time she was ever alone was when she was hidden away in the security of her room. And she suspected even that meager sense of safety was false.

She thought again of the strange men that had been assigned to guard her. Or protect her, as Barney had repeatedly claimed. But in light of the distrust that radiated from everyone she'd met so far, those claims seemed ridiculously absurd. It was nearly impossible to feel secure under his watchful eye when he was the one making the threats. She'd tried to convince herself that there was no real malice intended in his words, that it was just his overreaction to a situation that he obviously did not want to end in disaster. But every time she caught his eye, each time she met his fierce stare, that nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach told her that there might be just a few flaws in those hopeful theories of hers.

She'd spent a vast amount of time in careful consideration of her situation, wondering what might happen if she were to simply refuse any further assistance from him...if she were to just walk away from it all, even if she was forced to slip away unnoticed in the dead of the night. But, if her time here had been unpleasant, she had at least remained unharmed, and she wasn't sure she would be able to say the same thing if Barney was forced to come track her down and drag her back, kicking and screaming. And if what he'd told her about her accident was true, there was no real way for her to know what dangers might lie outside the security of this strange sanctuary. As the old saying went, better the devil she knew, than the one she didn't.

But the secrets that still surrounded her mysterious arrival continued to nag at her. After the shock of her initial discovery had worn off, Isabelle had anticipated that Barney would provide her with more details regarding whatever calamity that had befallen her. At the very least, she had expected him to assist her in piecing together exactly what had happened, and in the process, helping her remember the details that she imagined had to be crucial to the performance of his job. After all, if his task was to keep her safe, wouldn't he be eager to know just who or what he should be protecting her from? But his apparent disinterest in her recovery confused her, adding yet another layer of intrigue to her unfortunate circumstances. At the moment, she didn't see that she had much choice other than to continue playing along with him, and hope that at some point, she wouldn't come to regret her choice.

XXXXXXXX

"How is she doing?" Barney inquired, as he strode through the cluttered warehouse, the doctor close by his side.

"She's good. She's healing fine. I'll be able to remove the stitches soon." the smaller man stated.

"And her memory?"

Doc shook his head. "There doesn't appear to be any change so far. It's a little concerning. I'm actually surprised that she hasn't been able to remember at least a few things by now, but, still, it's really not that uncommon. It will happen eventually. But it may take a little longer than I first expected."

Wandering through the empty area of Tool's tattoo parlor, the pair stopped beside the door. Frustrated, Barney slouched against the wall, one foot braced on the surface behind him.

"What if I tell her?" he asked.

"Tell her?" Doc questioned. "You mean about what really happened?"

Barney shrugged. "Everything. Where she was. What she was doing. What _we_ were doing. If I lay it all out there, every detail that happened, any chance that it might trigger her memory?"

Doc considered it for a moment. "Under normal circumstances, I'd say it couldn't hurt to try. But this situation is anything but normal."

He hesitated for a moment. "If I had to give you a professional opinion, I'd say that there was probably a very slim chance of it helping at all. But, honestly, there's just no way to know for sure unless you try it."

Barney remained quiet, contemplating the other man's suggestions.

"I suppose if you tell her and it doesn't work, then..." Doc continued, his voice trailing off, uncertain how to finish the thought.

"Then we've got an even bigger problem on our hands." Barney stated, knowing it was a risky proposition.

"I'm sorry. I wish I could give you some concrete answers but...something like this ...it's just too unpredictable."

"No." Barney replied. "I know you're doing everything you can."

Doc opened the door. "I'll check back again in a few days. If there's anything else you need, let me know."

With a nod, Barney removed his lighter from his front pocket, lighting a cigar and taking a long draw as he watched Doc slip behind the wheel of his car and drive away. Being no stranger to complicated jobs, being accustomed to making difficult decisions under a considerable amount of duress, he was used to having an answer for nearly every situation. But for such a tame assignment, this one sure had given him more than his fair share of headaches. And so far, there didn't seem to be an easy solution to making the problem go away.

The indecisiveness was new to him. He liked to keep things running smoothly. He was used to keeping things clean. In this line of work, sloppiness guaranteed you an early grave. In and out. That's how it was done. No loose ends. No mistakes. He didn't like having all of these unanswered questions. He despised this uncertainty. And he certainly didn't favor being stuck in the middle, especially in a situation where Church was involved. Mental improvements or not, he was going to have to prepare himself to deal with Isabelle. And with Church. And was going to have to do it soon, before things had a chance to get any more problematic for all of them.

XXXXXXXX

Standing in front of the counter, Isabelle gazed out the kitchen window at the street below, as she warmed yet another frozen meal in the microwave. It seemed as though they were all she had eaten as of late, but even if it wasn't gourmet quality food, at least she could say Barney wasn't trying to starve her to death. _Or maybe he is_, she thought sarcastically, as she removed the dinner from the microwave and studied the shapeless pile of food as she carried the plastic tray to the table.

As the food cooled, she found her gaze wandering back toward the counter top, recalling her brief and strange encounter with Gunnar days earlier. Since that time, she'd only managed to catch a couple of rare glimpses of him and she couldn't deny her growing suspicions that he was doing his best to avoid her. Not that she was really surprised. But although his attitude was in line with that of his companions', there had been a particular viciousness is his voice, a certain dark contempt, that insinuated whatever ill will he harbored toward her was something more personal in nature.

Remembering his exact words, the specific mention of his accident intrigued her, especially in light of his obvious injury. So, was there something real behind her initial impression of the man, or was she simply imagining it all? Perhaps she had merely concocted a wishful fantasy, one that she hoped might finally bring an end to this whole nightmare once and for all.

Well, whichever it may be, she would never know for sure if she couldn't get close enough to him to find out. She wondered what someone would have to do for a man like him in order to get on his good side. _If he even has a good side_, she thought, reminding herself of his intimidating size and gruff temperament. _Leave it to me to survive a major disaster and wake up in the land of non-existent personalities._

Foregoing her dilemma, at least temporarily, she picked at the shapeless mass of food on her plate, finally noticing the worn paperback book laying on the table across from her. Leaning over, she slid it toward her and picked it up, reading the back cover for the summary. A fictional crime thriller, the description interested her and she thumbed through the pages, skimming over a few lines of text. Then with a shrug, she flipped back to the first page and began to read, happy to at least having something to do while she ate yet another boring meal alone.

XXXXXXX

"Now what?" Lee questioned, taking a seat next to Barney, who was reclined against the solid counter top of the bar. "How much longer are we going to wait this out?"

"I don't know."

"You still haven't heard from Church?" Lee pressed, obviously irritated.

"No."

"Have you tried to reach him?"

"Several times."

"And that doesn't make you a little bit suspicious?"

Barney shrugged.

Lee thought for a moment. "You think Church may be in trouble?"

"Could be. We still don't know what this whole thing was about. Maybe he was into something deeper than we thought."

Rubbing a hand across his worn forehead, Barney racked his brain for some kind of explanation that made sense to him. He finally gave up.

"I don't know," he repeated. "But I find it hard to believe he'd just drop off the face of the earth willingly, considering how badly he wanted us to do this."

"Well, trouble or not, we can't keep this up." Lee argued. "Nothing personal against the girl, but she can't stay here. Everybody's uncomfortable having her here. Everybody's on edge, just waiting on the shit to hit the fan. We didn't sign up for a damn babysitting job. She's Church's problem, not ours. Injured or not, she needs to go. Soon."

"I know." Barney agreed. "I've been thinking the same thing. Question is, what's the best way to do it? We can't exactly put her back where we got her."

"You have any ideas?"

"Maybe." Barney paused, fiddling with the lighter in his hand. "A couple."

He hesitated, unsure whether to bring up his previous idea of revealing everything to Isabelle. Even if there was a strong chance of it working, he doubted Lee would ever be willing to go along with it. Instead, he concentrated on his second choice.

"We send her home"

"Home?" Lee repeated, confused. "I thought we just agreed we couldn't take her back where we got her from."

"Not Albania. Charlotte." Barney explained. "Her address was listed on her driver's license. We could send her there."

"You think that's a smart move? You don't think she'd try to run?"

"Why would she? She's been wanting to go home since she got here. And with her memory gone, she wouldn't have a reason to run. She'd be relieved to be home. And she'd be out of our hair. And when Church finally does show up, we can simply point him in the right direction. It keeps us out of the middle. Whatever he does from that point on is none of our concern."

"What if she remembers? Being home, in familiar surroundings, you don't think there's any danger of her memory returning?"

"Doc thinks its unlikely." Barney argued. "I think at this point, we'll just have to take a chance. We don't have many options to choose from."

Pushing himself off the bar, he slipped his lighter back in his pocket.

"Anyway, I might send a couple of the guys up there, just to check the place out, maybe see if they can find any information that could be useful. Once everything checks out, we can decide from there."

XXXXXXXXX

"I'm on my way..." Toll Road called over his shoulder as he stepped into the kitchen, his voice trailing off when he spotted Isabelle seated at the table, reading the same book he'd come to retrieve.

Startled by his sudden appearance, she stared up at him wide-eyed, then followed his gaze back down to the book. Embarrassed, she closed it softy and slid it across the table toward him.

"Sorry." she mumbled. "Didn't realize it was yours."

Hesitating in the doorway, he glanced around the empty kitchen, then at the book, then back to the lone woman seated at the table. From what he'd seen from the short time he'd been around her, he had a hard time viewing the girl as any kind of a real threat. Physically, she was no match for any of them. And mentally, well, it was obvious she was in no condition to play mind games with them either. He could see that she was struggling to come to terms with everything that had happened to her. Not that any of them had actually been helpful in the matter. He could understand Barney's desire for caution, given the circumstances, but still, he wondered if it was really necessary for them to be so cold-hearted.

"You know, I've already read it. Help yourself."

"Are you sure?" Isabelle asked, shocked by his display of kindness.

"Yeah, it's fine. I've got plenty more to choose from. Just let me know when you're done. There's two more in the series, if you like it."

"Oh...thanks."

Still surprised, she watched him leave, then finished off the last couple of bites of her meal. She tossed the trash and washed her utensils, then returned to the book, thumbing through it until she found the place where she'd left off. Nose buried inside the worn pages, she started back toward her room, intent on passing away the afternoon curled up in bed while she enjoyed the new distraction. Rounding the corner, she yelped in surprise when she crashed into something hard, then jumped back in shock when she found herself staring up into Gunnar's annoyed face.

"Watch where you're going." he growled. "I'm not taking the blame if you get hurt again."

"Sorry..." she stammered, unconsciously taking a step backward to put more distance between the two of them.

He remained quiet, his dark, piercing gaze cutting into her. Nervous, and at a loss for what else to say, her eyes were drawn to the bandage that now covered his injured bicep.

"How's your arm?" she inquired, softly, her curiosity sparked again by the sight of the blemish.

Instantly, his face darkened and his eyes shifted from her to the book she grasped tightly in her hand, as he voiced an obvious grunt of disapproval.

"You know, one bookworm around here is enough. I'm sure you could find something more useful to do with your time."

Confused, Isabelle frowned as he took a step closer and leaned toward her, and for one brief moment, she was fearful that he was going to kiss her.

"After all, this place is a mess. It could use a good cleaning."

Momentarily stunned, she could only watch as a smirk materialized on his face.

"I don't know why he bothers with you." he added, stepping back to eye her up. "It's certainly not worth the effort."

Without giving her a chance to respond, he shoved past her and stormed off, his mood obviously still foul. Isabelle watched him until he disappeared around the corner, a mixture of anger, hurt and confusion coursing through her. She fought the urge to chase him down and hurl something at the back of his head, knowing that in a physical altercation, she didn't stand a chance against the larger man. And it would no doubt piss off Barney as well, who would never stand up for her, no matter what Gunnar might have said or done to provoke her.

Well, she wouldn't give the man the satisfaction of knowing he'd gotten under her skin. Whatever his problem with her might be, his taunts had only made her more determined than ever to get to the bottom of things. And whatever the effort he felt that Barney was wasting, she decided that by the time this whole ordeal was over, she'd make damn sure that Gunnar knew that every moment of it had been worth it.

XXXXXXXXX

**2 Days Later**

"How the hell did we get stuck with this job?" Hale Caesar questioned, as he gazed out the window, watching the scenery pass by as Toll Road navigated his way through the suburban neighborhoods surrounding the city of Charlotte.

"I'm not going to complain." Toll Road argued. "It's nice to get away for a couple of days. Things are getting a little too tense back home, if you ask me."

Caesar agreed. "I'll be glad when this whole thing blows over. I'm ready to get back to some real action. And soon!"

"Yeah, well, remember you said that. If this lead pans out, we'll be back at it again sooner than you think."

Passing entrances to several gated communities, they continued to make their way south, further away from the crowded streets, into the more rural areas of the city. Miles of cramped, cookie cutter homes lined both sides of the road, each one the same as all the others, even down to the stereotypical family SUVs that filled the space of each driveway. In the darkening twilight, it was easy to imagine the families who were seated inside, many of them gathered around the dining room table for dinner, or possibly the television, while they watched their favorite show. The younger kids bathed and ready for bed, older kids locked away in their rooms, finishing up the last bits of homework for the night, the typical family rituals brought an end to yet another classic workday, a dull concept that the two men in the truck had been fortunate enough to have never been forced to endure.

Eventually, the yards began to widen, the houses growing further and further apart, the distance between many of them filled with copses of full grown trees or vast spaces of wide open fields, creating more privacy, or better concealment, depending on where each home was located.

"What's the number again?" Toll Road inquired, squinting in the fading light as he tried to read the stickers on the side of the mailboxes as they passed them by.

"102. We're getting close." Caesar replied, glimpsing the numbers much more easily than the man behind the wheel could while he was driving. "It should be right up there, on the right."

Passing a solid line of mature pine trees, Toll Road took note that there was no traffic behind him and he slowed to a near stop as they approached their destination. As the house came into view, they both stared in disbelief as they took in the sight. In the back left corner of the lot, one partial wall, charred and coated with thick black soot, towered over the burnt pile of rumble that was all that remained of the undoubtedly beautiful home that had once stood on the spot. The scorched grass and damaged trees, as well as the undisturbed bright yellow tape that surrounded the property, indicated to both of the men that the disaster had only occurred fairly recently.

"This is not good." Caesar mumbled, as he glanced at his equally stunned friend in the driver's seat. Toll Road could only shake his head at the sight.

"Let's get out of here." he finally stated, accelerating as the house began to disappear from view behind another broad swathe of towering trees.

"Now what do we do?" Caesar asked, his face etched with concern. If he had expected anything from this trip, it certainly wasn't this.

Toll Road motioned toward the cell phone tucked away in Caesar's vest pocket.

"Call Barney" Toll Road answered, his grip on the wheel tight. "Tell him this problem of ours just got a little more complicated."


End file.
